


ever shaved a snake?

by ZerpentEle



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: #Crowley with beard, #affection, #angel to the rescue, #caring, #corona blues, #established relationship, #facial shaving, #fluff, #kinda canon, #lockdown, #lots of love, #love confession, #over productive Aziraphale, #rolled up sleeves, #sharp razors, #soft cheeks, #tired Crowley, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:14:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29964846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZerpentEle/pseuds/ZerpentEle
Summary: Crowley is miserable in the second lockdown (or third? I lost count). He sleeps and somehow grew a beard. Aziraphale doesn’t think twice to help him out with a style and a shave.It’s a little something for all of us who struggle to get their shi- stuff together in lockdown.Art by Lei_sam
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27





	ever shaved a snake?

**Author's Note:**

> ((The artwork doesn't look exactly like the scene is described, pls don't get confused just enjoy~))

* * *

It felt like forever until a voice mumbled sluggish through the old telephone.

“Aziraphale?”

“Yes, hello Crowley. Are you awake?”

“Would I answer the phone if I wasn’t?”

“Did I wake you?”

“Yeah, you did.”

“Oh dear, I’m terribly sorry. Shall I call again some other time?”

“Now it’s too late anyway. Did something happen? Is it over?”

“Sadly not. It seems it must get worse first… there is a mutation now.”

“Wonderful. So why did you call me?”

“I wanted to check up on you. It has been quite some time. How are you?”

“Tired.”

“Oh.”

“-”

“Well, I am fine and still busy with my cakes, if you ask. I tried other desserts too, you know. I must confess the Mousse au Chocolate turned out rather well.”

“Enjoy it, angel.”

“And all of my recent pastries were a success to be honest. I want to try something more elaborate next. Any ideas? Maybe something to improve my decoration skills. Or I could try to make fudge. I’d have something to nibble while I read. What do you think?”

“Sounds like you changed your bookshop successfully into a bakery.”

“I really wish I could object.”

“You rather enjoy the pastry during the confection, don’t you? Still a chance you’ll accompany me the next time I visit a café?”

“I fear that won’t happen anytime soon.”

“So it seems.”

“What have you been doing in the meantime, my dear?”

“Sleeping.”

“Ah. That’s all?”

There was a sigh and a quiet pause at the other end. “Apparently, I’m growing a beard.”

“A beard?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re changing your style? How comes?”

“Donno.“

“You don’t know?”

“Beards just grow, don’t they? I slept in case you forgot.”

“Sure, although usually not on us; have any plans with it?”

“I don’t care. I guess I’ll let it grow.”

“Don’t you want to shave it?”

“I just want to sleep angel.”

“Yes. Of course. I’m terribly sorry to have woken you. Sleep well, dear.”

“Thanks.”

The phone went dead.

The next time it ringed, Crowley -again- groped around for his phone, but no one answered as he held it to his ear. It ringed once more. Crowley eyed the screen, realised no one called him and starred at the ceiling for a second. The door ringed for the third time.

Aziraphale chirped through the intercom; he was on a lovely walk and brought some of his self-made desserts round. Maybe Crowley was interested to try how they turned out.

“Hello, Crowley.” The angel greeted him with a smile and headed past Crowley, after he let him in. 

“I know you were the first one to fail, angel”, said Crowley, closing the door and followed Aziraphale, who strolled through the room.

“Fail?” Aziraphale placed a basked on the table, eyeing the CD covers and glasses flying around. “I am not failing. I’ve been minding each and every safety rule.”

Crowley gathered his few pillows and put them carelessly back to their place. He hastily did the same with the other stuff on the table.

“You and I both haven’t seen another being in months”, explained Aziraphale further, “and as I walked here, I wore a mask and naturally minded the safety distance. For the whole way.”

“How considerate.”

“Right?” Aziraphale beamed at Crowley and sat down on the sofa, “besides, they advise to go on walks and leave the house for a change. And as the sun came out today, I thought it’s a good idea to take an airing, pay the ducks a visit.”

“And what are our feathered friends up to?”

“Oh, I wasn’t there yet.”

“You made a stopover here first? Did they also made some advice about seeing others which I missed?” Crowley darted an inquiring look towards the angel as he stuffed the last of his used black shirts out of sight. 

“It’s true, they don’t recommend it, but it’s not completely prohibited. Aside from that, it’s actually difficult to see you underneath this monstrosity.”

“Hey.”

Aziraphale took a pitiful look at Crowley’s messy full beard and tousled shoulder-length hair, “Oh dear, you really should shave.”

“Completely? I thought I’d turn it into something.”

“Splendid.”

“Sadly, now it’s rather difficult to find a barber who could advise me, don’t you think? Too bad.”

Aziraphale frowned a little, then suddenly jumped to his feet and clapped his hands, “Good thing you have me.”

“What?”

“I’ll help you choose a style.”, he excitedly nodded towards the bathroom.

“Now?”, Crowley put his head back and made a long, reluctant sound.

“Don’t make a fuss, dear. Come on.”

Crowley gave him a look but made his way down to the bathroom, followed by Aziraphale, who neatly placed himself in the doorframe as soon as they reached it.

Crowley braced himself on the sink and starred at his own reflection, grumbling.

“Alright what should it be monsieur?”, he began, half-hearted acting like a dutiful hairstylist, “a little bit of, err, back to… disco?”

He did a little wave with his hand and his reflection got _the moustache._ He grinned at Aziraphale’s image in the mirror, while his real face changed not even a little.

“No. It’s not very fitting to the current situation I’m afraid.”

“Even further back then? And rather doing something with my hair?” He did another wave and Aziraphale could barely stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“Hm”, Crowley pondered while inspecting the face in the mirror from all sides, “Nah, I actually liked my Shakespearean-Style more.” The reflection of a Crowley from the French Revolution was replaced with another wave.

“They’re sure all very lovely, dear. But don’t you think they’re also a little old fashioned?” Crowley turned around, beard as unkempt as before, darted his eyes down on Aziraphale and up again, before staring at him with a raised eyebrow.

Aziraphale lifted both eyebrows emphatically and stared right back.

“It’s not like anyone is going to see me and judge”, Crowley turned back to the mirror, “except you.”

“I’m not judging. I’m barely giving advice.”

“Oh, how kind to be granted tips from a fashion-icon.”

“At least one of us keeps a good taste and his dignity in these times.”

“Ahh, so what’s your humble opinion on…”, he waved his hand and as soon as the image in the mirror had changed, he placed a hand on his chest and glanced at Aziraphale through the mirror fiercely, “The Van Dyke beard! To gain back my dignity.”

“Dashing dear.”

“Right? Fit’s my style”, Crowley knew he made a good suggestion. Even through Aziraphale tried not to approve it.

“Or the Royal beard! Worthy of its name.”

Aziraphale nodded, “Very noble indeed.”

“Nah it doesn’t fit.”

“Your face is not that round dear, try something for more rectangular once.”

“Do I look like I know what beard- oh wait- tadaa!”

The angel turned his sight helplessly to the ceiling while Crowley leaned closer to the mirror, fascinated.

“The chin strip”, he threw his head back to Aziraphale with a wide grin, “but trimmed. _Lovely_ ”.

“It’s not worse than the Shakespearean one but please don’t ruin your face like that. At least the other looked more like a goats-“

“Something’s still missing. Oh, what could it be.”

Aziraphale really put a thought into it, then he saw Crowley’s smirk, “No Crowley, please spare me.”

The demon gracious waved his hand, “Moustache.”

“Very well, it’s not that horrible, if you insist to have one”, admitted Aziraphale after a weighty second of silence.

“Oh?” Crowley slumped a little as his mission to tease the angel in oblivion seemed to have failed, “you’re just saying that cause it’s close to the Van Dyke.”

“It’s not a horseshoe at last,” Aziraphale added to himself.

“Ah what a brilliant idea angel!”

“Crowley, NO-”

The demon left his hand hanging in the air, as visible threat.

“Have any better suggestions?”

“Of course, I do. Plenty”, Aziraphale straightened himself dutiful and stepped closer behind the demon to have a better look into the mirror.

“What about sideburns?”

“Those from 1860?”

“No-no, please make them reach to your chin.”

“Ah, you want to accent my jaw line, don’t you?”

“I don’t think it’s possible to accent it even more dear. -Yes, that’s better.”

“You really think so?”

Aziraphale sighed. “No.”

“See? There needs to be a ‘tache.”

“Alright, if you think so. Try it.”

A quick wave later, they both stared at each other through the mirror and waited for one to point out the obvious, the corners of Crowley’s mouth rising again, while Aziraphale pinched his lips.

“I’m already looking exactly like that”, said Crowley blatantly, rolling every syllable with his tongue. 

“No, you’re not.”

“I am.”

“That one in the mirror is far trimmer and groomed”, Aziraphale harrumphed and waved his hand elegantly with closed eyes. The reflection changed a little.

“Now I look like a wannabe hipster.” 

“First of all, you’re looking presentable.”

“Presentable. Have any plans with me today I don*t know about?”

“Sadly not-”

“Then I guess I’ll just go back to bed until we can do stuff again and let it grow into a wild and messy full beard.” Crowley turned to face Aziraphale and put an extra accent on _wild_ and _messy_.

“Oh no, you don’t.” 

“Why not? Besides, aren’t your cakes getting boring already? Why aren’t _you_ trying new styles?”, Crowley stepped back from the sink and Aziraphale turned with him, following his movement questioning.

“Dear, you know I like my style as it is-“

“Yes, a full beard would suit you”, he stopped his circling behind the angel, portentously lifting his hand, “Let us both fall into the pit of shame!”

Aziraphale swung his head and looked aghast into the mirror at the sight of his face.

“Good grief!” He raised his hands instinctively to his cheeks, instantly relieved Crowley’s miracle applied to his reflection only.

“Oh Angel, you look so fluffy.”

“Fluffy? No, it’s close to being neglected, depraved even.”

“Nonsense angel-”

Aziraphale turned around, cutting him off. “Crowley you’re going to shave. Today”, he stated firmly.

“Oh, am I? What if I’m simply not?”

“Then I fear I will simply do so myself.” Aziraphale, very confident to take care of the demon, nodded with a pleased smile on his face and turned his back to the mirror.

“You?”, Crowley grimaced, “You can’t shave me. You don’t even shave yourself. Don’t know where you should’ve gotten the know-how from; you go to the barber.”

He gestured exaggerated in several directions. Not that the angel gave him any attention, that is.

“-You don’t even grow beards to begin with. Actually, I can’t recall having seen you with one. Not once. ‘ve always questioned why you’re regularly visiting- “, he stopped and glared over to Aziraphale, “Are you still visiting this-”

“Sit down.”

Aziraphale, who in the meantime had prepared himself with a chair, a hair cutting cape, shaving foam and other similar stuff, a shaving brush and one of these cut-throat razors, interrupted Crowley’s grumpy hissing and beamed at him with one of these crinkled smiles and wiggled expectantly, disdaining to notice that little outburst.

Crowley was neither impressed nor convinced and leaned back against the sink,” I doubt you know how.”

“Of course I do!”, Aziraphale pushed the chair in Crowley’s direction and placed the utensils loudly on the sink, “You’ll see.”

“Learned it by carefully watching how your barber does it, have you?” Crowley crossed his arms, “visit him often?”

“He is excellent at doing his job. In case you’re interested.”

“I am not.” Crowley narrowed his eyes and followed how sedulous Aziraphale folds the cape over his arm like some valet.

“Have you shaved others before? Who? How many?”

“Stop growling “, Aziraphale rolled up one sleeve, not breaking eye contact while doing so, “trust me I know what to do and how.”

“Did your barber teach you?”

Aziraphale straightened his back, still the demon chattered provokingly.

“Maybe I should better go to the _master_ himself after all. You can’t be as good as-”

“Hush. I’m your barber now.” Knockout argument. The demon clenched his teeth.

“Crowley, my dear,” Aziraphale’s voice softened as he gestured to the chair, “you may.”

Still Crowley wasn’t finished grumbling, jet he pushed himself up. “We haven’t chosen a style yet.”

“Then It’ll come as a surprise”, crooned the angel and proudly unfurled the cape over the demon as soon as he had thrown himself into the chair.

“Then I’m damned.”

“I heard once it’s not that bad when you get used to it.”

Crowley watched Aziraphale pacing to the sink and rolling up his other sleeve. He stood before the light coming from the lamp over the mirror. With straight back and focused on his forearm he revealed. Right as he arranged his tools, he paused and looked over his shoulder. “Would you like it if I, er, prepare your skin with pre-shave oils before?”

“Uh, what’s that in aid for?”

“It soothes the skin, eases the roots and therefore prevents skin irritations, if I remember correctly.”

Crowley gaped irritated.

“It’s a part of the process”, the angel added helping, “I’ll put a hot towel on your face and the skin soaks it up. It feels good.”

Crowley rallied and shook his head, “Nah, don’t thrash this out and perform a ritual. Just shave me if you must.”

“As you wish.” 

Aziraphale finished and came back, stirring the brush confidently in foam.

“Lie your head back, please.”

Crowley did as he was told and Aziraphale lightly circled the brush over his skin, trying as well as possible not to get foam into Crowley’s nose or over his mouth. As soon as that was done, he put the brush down and flipped the razor open. He took a breath, standing right in front of the demon. 

Crowley lifted his head to look at him. “You’re not going to pull something like Sweeney Todd, are you?”

“Are you nervous?” Aziraphale inspected the sharpness and held the razor into the light.

“I don’t want to end as filling in a cake.” Crowley pulled a face and Aziraphale turned around smiling, “It’s rather pleasant. “

“What? Holding a knife to my throat?”

“Oh, fear not. The blade wouldn’t dare to do you harm”, he flashed his eyes at it, “I’ll use it very carefully.”

Crowley swallowed and his Adams apple jumped.

“Alright then, err”, announced Aziraphale more cheerfully, breaking the tension suddenly, “I start then?”

He looked expectantly at Crowley and stepped to his left side.

“Well yeah, I guess.” As if the demon wasn’t covered in foam already. His head sunk down again.

“Ok”, affirmed Aziraphale more for himself. Then he hesitatingly positioned the razor slightly beneath Crowley’s temple. He straightened the skin with his left the thumb and began to make short and cautious strokes.

The razor cut smoothly, leaving nothing but sheer skin on it’s path. Aziraphale wiped the blade and repeated his moves, getting more confident with each stroke. 

“Is that alright Crowley?”

“Yeah.”

“You sound a bit hoarse.”

“Hm.”

“We can still talk, you know. You don’t have to endure this in silence”, Aziraphale said slowly and concentrated. 

Crowley waited for Aziraphale to wipe the blade before he spoke, “Isn’t it more difficult when I talk?”

“Not here. Besides it’s not my skin I’d cut.”

“Comforting.”

Aziraphale shaved the cheek down to the jawline, then he walked around and began in the same manner on Crowley’s other side. Crowley turned his head and Aziraphale placed the razor right where his tattoo was covered. Slowly, the angel freed it from hair.

While Aziraphale got absorbed in his work, Crowley started to pick holes into the poor cushioned armrest beneath his fingers. His eyes flying alternating up to the ceiling and jumping back to have a blurry glimpse of Aziraphale, who focused conscientious on his doing, blade and fingertips moving gingerly over his face.

“I always wondered; Is it better to leave the eyes open or to close them?”, he asked then.

Aziraphale stopped for a second, “I’d say you can do whatever helps you relax.”

“Not for me, for you. Isn’t it distracting if I watch you?”

“Dear, I think I’m too close for you to watch me properly for most of the time - Would you like to tilt you head back please?”

Aziraphale changed his position anew and stood now almost directly behind Crowley. He placed his hand to each side of Crowley’s head and tilted it gently the way he needed.

“And I’m far too busy with the shaving then paying attention to anything else. I don’t mind.”

Crowley followed how Aziraphale’s arm reached past his face. The blade pressed slightly on his throat, before sliding up to his jaw. The razor was wiped, positioned anew, and moved up again in one fluent stroke. Aziraphale leaned so close, his aftershave wrapped around the demon, who decided to keep an eye on the ceiling.

Eventually, Aziraphale bowed into his sight, “My dear, it’s time for your beloved moustache.”

Crowley stretched his upper lip over his teeth, like Aziraphale demonstrated. He used the corner, not the whole blade, to bring the rank growth into shape and proceeded the same with the area around Crowley’s chin. 

“Oh bother”, Aziraphale uttered in a whisper suddenly.

“What? Cut me?”

”No, never. I, er, got carried away. Just quickly need to shorten the other side.”

Aziraphale buzzed from left to right, then back from right to left like a diligent Bumblebee and the blade moved more and more hurriedly. Crowley continued to torture the armrest.

“Are you sure it’s getting better?”, he asked, trying to stuff a piece of padding back into the leather, having no idea where to leave it elsewhere once he had managed to tinker it out.

Aziraphale came to a halt and looked over his work frustrated. “No. I guess it’s too late.”

Defeated he handed Crowley a towel and stepped aside for the demon to stand up and have a look. Crowley slandered to the mirror, expecting the worst, and removing the last bits of foam. Then he tried to figure what these tiny and unsymmetric remains of beard were supposed to be.

There was a moustache, thin and lopsided and a spear-shaped goatee, which was longer on one side than on the other so that its tip wasn’t quite in the middle.

“It’s the Van Dyke am I right?”, Crowley turned around with a wide grin, “I knew you liked that one.”

“I’d liked it better if it wouldn’t look so amateurish.” Aziraphale put his hands on his hips and frowned discontented.

”You tried your best, angel.”

”Thank you”, Aziraphale turned away quickly, but flipped the razor back open the next second. “Still I’d like to, uhm... I don’t want you to run around like that.”

Crowley’s eyes wandered from Aziraphale, to the razor, back to Aziraphale and then he turned to the mirror, to look at the shreds on his face one last time.

“Don’t get me wrong when I say I completely agree. Don’t worry, through”, He said while he came back and made himself comfortable in the chair, “you’ll get another chance.”

“Oh, I hope I do not”, uttered Aziraphale playfully horrified and again brushed foam partly over Crowley’s face, “I’ve seen what you did to my chair.”

He shaved with precise strokes, careful as before. Gently stretching the skin with his thumb and positioning his head with his hands. Crowley closed his eyes. 

“Crowley?”, Aziraphale asked as he had once more finished.

“Hm?”

“I could use the pre-shave oils now. Those I talked about earlier. I’d cut the stubbles against the grain, so there would be nothing of them left.” 

“If it takes too much time, I can’t promise you not to fall asleep on the spot.”

“Don’t worry, just let me prepare a towel.”

Aziraphale walked to the sink, left a towel bathing in hot water, and came back, dripping a lotion into his palms.

“No brush?”, Crowley wondered.

“No, I’ll use my hands to rub it in.”

Aziraphale stepped behind Crowley and started to circle his fingers evenly on his temples. He proceeded on the cheeks, chin, and throat, changing between light and firmer pressure, until the skin was covered.

Crowley stayed still, while Aziraphale wrung the towel and placed it - in the second attempt - properly on the demon’s face.

“I bet I look ridiculous.”, said the towel head from which nothing but a nose stuck out.

“No. You don*t”, said Aziraphale, resisting the urge to give the nose a boop.

The heat beneath the towel was right to make one pleasantly dozy. Even as Aziraphale removed it and shaved with quicker and shorter strokes, Crowley kept his eyes close the whole time. The blade glided with almost no resistance and the armrest was left in peace.

The sound of a razor snaping shut caused Crowley to open his eyes again.

“It’s time for the aftershave, dear.” Aziraphale held a little bottle in his hand and already let the substance drop into his palm.

Crowley scrunched his nose. “This one?”

“It’s mine”, Aziraphale stopped and looked up offended.

“I know it’s yours”, said Crowley, “that one your barber suggested”, he added, hissing a little.

“I can only recommend”, Aziraphale rubbed his hands and reached out.

Crowley let him dapple it on his cheek and throat briefly, but the angel’s dappling soon turned into fondling.

“So smooth”, he hummed, reportingly moving his hands up and down, to enjoy that freshly shaved skin and causing Crowley’s lips to part between his fingers like a fish’s.

“Haven’t you fussed enough with me already?”, Crowley asked, annoyed how pathetic he sounded because of Aziraphale’s shenanigans.

“Not quite.”

“Angel please. I just gained back my dignity”, reminded Crowley but Aziraphale was busy to alternately stretch and squeeze his mouth on purpose, causing the words to lose all their impact.

“That’s humiliating”, Crowley stated sternly.

Now that Crowley pinched his lips, the whole stretch-and-squeeze thing wasn’t working as well as before, but it was not less entertaining.

“ThAt’s HumiLiaTinG”, repeated Aziraphale, trying to move Crowley’s mouth in sync.

“Alright Angel. Hands off my face.” Crowley waved his hands as if to shoo a fly and pulled his head away, but Aziraphale held tight on to his cheeks.

“Repeat after me my dear -”

Crowley stammered and rolled his eyes.

“- I am loved by my angel.”

Crowley slumped down, eyes growing wide and golden, processing what for words Aziraphale put in his mouth. He sits there and stares, and Aziraphale waits and admires the sight.

The angel gets his response. He feels the answer, the unfiltered love coming back at him as sudden as a waterfall crashing down and as beautiful as a sunshine breaking through clouds. It is warm and full and sincere. No wonder Crowley struggles to voice it.

The longer it takes for Crowley to reboot, the longer Aziraphale can bask.

And this time he really let Crowley crash into my words like a truck.

Using a possessive pronoun and a passive voice, I really shouldn’t be that mean, he thought while absentmindedly caressing the demon’s cheekbone during his recover.

He couldn’t help but smile widely as the warmth in his chest spread repeatedly through his whole body as Crowley opened his mouth in a few attempts to give response.

“Your… err, your demon- “Crowley harrumphed to get rid of his throaty voice.

“My demon?”

“Ngk.” 

It heated up beneath Aziraphale’s palms and he realised he reduced Crowley’s struggle not in the slightest. But he was too enraptured to feel sorry. 

“You're loved too angel”, Crowley managed after he gathered himself a second time.

“Be sure I know.”

His little crinkles around his eyes deepened once more, then Aziraphale let go of Crowley’s cheeks and proceeded to lift the cape from Crowley and to clear up his utensils. 

Crowley drew his hand over his cheeks. There, where Aziraphale’s palms had rested and starred at nothing in particular. 

“Let’s find out if you really succeeded better with your desserts, angel. How about that?”, he suggested once Aziraphale was done.

“That’s a wonderful idea, Crowley dear.”

“And then a walk in the park? I’d keep my distance and follow you around.”

“I think it’s getting too late for this, don’t you think?”

“I’d make sure you come home safe. It’s only fair.”

“Oh, you’d slither in behind me before I get to close the door. I know your wiles.” Aziraphale shoot a telling glance at Crowley, “No. No more walks for me today, dear. Tomorrow maybe.”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Them changing their reflection with supernatural power but not thinking about shaving with a simple miracle? Something they would do…
> 
> Besides ever saw a snake burying themselves but letting their snoot stick out? It’s adorable.
> 
> And when I think about it, Aziraphale must have a good time with his barber. Getting himself nice and fresh for a meeting with his e.n.e.m.y at a r.e.s.t.a.u.r.a.n.t.  
> Aziraphale, eyes twinkling and shifting from one foot to the other: “He got us a table at the r.i.t.z you see?”  
> The barber, nodding knowingly and waving his hand after a check on the nails: “I have exactly what you need sir.”
> 
> Anyway.
> 
> Thank you very much for reading! (and leaving kudos/comments if you had fun)
> 
> Immensely huge thanks to Lei_sam. Her art fits perfectly, I’m so impressed she managed to give Crowley that expression with the few sentences I gave her. Especially the second one was a huge inspiration. Absolutely beautiful. The point is dolphins.  
> Always nice to have pictures in your presentation. You know.
> 
> Make sure to check out her amazing comic on Twitter / Instagram /AO3 / Ko-fi and get her a coffee.  
> https://ko-fi.com/lei_sam  
> https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lei_sam/pseuds/Lei_sam


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